1000 Corpses

Conway The Machine

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    Look
    Empty out the Kel-Tec, til ain't a shell left
    Bullets burn, I can smell flesh, I can smell death
    I inhale the last L right on hell's steps
    Devil's Reject, fuck you expect? Listen
    I got too many guns, and not enough drama
    So I'm broad day in the hood, popping the llama (Let's go)
    I get the blocks from papi, then I holler hasta mañana (Papi)
    Eating pasta like a mobster, silk Prada pajamas
    I've got to be out of my fucking mind
    I'll have B-Wiz sniff another fucking line and break your fucking spine
    I'm back around, graduated from the school of Hard Knocks
    And got a brick and a pistol, instead of a cap and gown
    A couple choppa shots will back them down
    Waving the K like: Look at me. I am the Captain now (hahahahaha)
    Thought you had racks homie, what happened now? (Damn)
    You take a loss and have more excuses than Pacquiao (haa)
    Ask around, you fuck niggas I smack around
    My Don C Bulls jacket smell like a pack of loud (You smell it)
    My bitch double C, it's Chanel bagging now
    Giuseppe on her feet, I-8 Beamer, she swagging now (she swagging now)
    100 bags a week, that's on average now
    Sending cookies from Cali, I'm waiting on a package now
    I only came to snatch the crown from whoever has it
    I don't fuck with these faggot niggas that's rapping now (fuck these niggas, man)

    Jump out of the coupe with something to shoot inside
    So run up on me, you're committing suicide
    I built a reputation niggas can't scrutinize
    APCs, shattered back boards, hoodies Superdry
    Medusa on the buckle, Gator on the brim
    I pull up on your corner, shit's spraying from a Benz (brr)
    It's funny how you only feel betrayal from a friend
    It's never the enemy, they hate you from within
    This for them niggas that play with the razors in the pen (my nigga)
    My bars sharp, I write with razors in my pen (woo)
    My little bro will put the gauge up to your chin
    He gon' wait till I say when, but his patience's running thin
    Look, I am the illest, I am the realest
    I ain't a rapper, I am a killer, I am a menace
    Listen
    I have completed what you're trying to finish
    I'm aiming at your cap, trying to peel it
    It's the Machine, bitch!

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    It's the Machine, bitch!

    Song details

    Composition: Daringer

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